I shiver as his fingers slip up my leg. I flex into the touch, trying to get more of him against me, but he’s featherlight. Our gazes clash. His is amused and I’m sure mine looks just how I feel: frustrated.
The first drip of hot wax hits my leg and I gasp, looking down at the spot. A crimson splotch paints my knee and peppers the surrounding skin in tiny pearls of red. The heat is searing at first, but begins to cool to meet the temperature of my skin. I squirm as I watch it harden.
Another drip hits higher up my thigh, and I can’t stop the moan that escapes me. Its heat is on the edge of too much, just like what I feel with him. I watch his face when the next drop falls. Barely restrained yearning glimmers in his eyes and in the hard set of his jaw.
His fingers draw the path the wax follows. Each new drop farther up my thigh has desire pulsing in my core, making my clit ache for attention. I wiggle on the chair, getting my center pressed against the single support holding up my chest cage.
Rhazan tsks and stands up.
The chair begins to shift again. The chains release from the ceiling and fall into Rhazan’s grasp. My legs are released, but the whole world is moving beneath me. I’m hot, needy, confused. I just want to feel his pleasure, his punishment.
The chair morphs and takes on more mass until it’s a platform at Rhazan’s hip height. The chain in his hand slips into the obsidian and locks my arms in place. I’m on my knees and forearms, my back angled and ass presented. My core muscles tighten with that knowledge. He’s poised me perfectly for fucking.
The skirt of my dress slides down my back and gathers at my waist, exposing my new panties. Rhazan circles me, and every second of his silent gaze heightens my anticipation. Finally, he stops behind me.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice husky. “Ready to take whatever I give you.”
I glance over my shoulder. His appreciative gaze has blood pumping painfully to my center.
“You’ll be a trembling mess when I’m through.”
The walls of my pussy clench around nothing and ache from it. Ineedhim. I need anything.
“Please,” I whimper.
His hand returns to my leg and I startle from the gentle contact. He glides up the back of my thigh to my ass, and I clench, prepared for a strike.
But it never comes.
“Aren’t you going to punish me?” I ask.
He huffs. “I don’t think the spankings are teaching you the lesson I want them to. In fact, I get the distinct feeling they’re doing theopposite.”
His hand leaves me and he walks away. A whine is all I can make, a desperate plea for him to return.
“So needy,” he says with a chuckle.
“Come back here and finish what you started.”
“There’s my Firecracker,” he says, walking to me.
He’s folding a cloth napkin in his hand, over and over until it’s a plush strip.
“Lift,” he says, tapping my left leg.
“Why?”
His eyes flick to my face and there’s a sternness there I crave. “Because I told you to.”
I purse my lips and lift my leg. He places the napkin strip against my knee, then guides my leg back down. I hadn’t even realized the obsidian was sharp until the napkin is there protecting me from it. He comes around to the other side while folding a second napkin. I don’t make him ask me to lift the other leg, and he secures my knee with the padding.
“But doesn’t the pain fuel you?” I ask.
Curiosity ruffles his brow as he considers my question. He turns to the table, and when he comes back, he’s resolved. The hard set of his jaw somehow makes him more handsome.
“I don’t prefer it.”
He strips off his black shirt and my brain stutters.
